Nothing Else Matters
by Moderndaydrifter
Summary: Life is bittersweet, and Mike Kellerman is no stranger to harsh, negative events. These are his thoughts.


_A/N: Hey eveyrone, I'm not sure how many of you out there are still reading Homicide fan fiction but this idea just sort of jumped at me today while I was watching some old tapes I have of the show._

_Just so you know, Mike Kellerman was my all time favorite character, and this is how I think he felt about all of the drama in his life. The ending is a twist, and I am still very unsure about it, but if I say anymore right here it'll give some stuff away. My thoughts about it can be found at the end._

_Summary: Life is bittersweet, and Mike Kellerman is no stranger to harsh, negative events. These are his thoughts. _

_Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only, no money is being made off of this!_

_Rating: PG-13, this is your warning there is some harsh language!_

**_Nothing Else Matters_**

Life is funny. When I was a kid all I ever wanted to be was a cop. Since I could remember, I was carrying around fake handcuffs and a fake badge. Most kids were different things for Halloween each year, but as my brother Drew told me, every single year I was a police officer.

Speaking of my brother's, I was in fact the odd ball. Drew and Greg both grew up to be scum, travelling place to place, mainly to stay away from bookies and people who were hot on their trail for reasons unbeknownst to me. It's a shame how that happens, your parents do everything right to make sure they aren't raising serial killers and bad people, yet something still goes wrong and the next thing they know they are constantly spending their whole paycheck just to bail them out of jail.

I can't say much though, since the reason I am no longer a cop isn't exactly the hilight of my existence. If I said I was a "good person" and that my brothers were "awful" and "shameful" then I'd also be able to add hypocrite to my list of putdowns I have made for myself. This is a memory in itself I will talk about later.

It seems my whole venture with the Baltimore City Police Department has been quite an escapade. I guess I could say it was bittersweet, having its ups and downs like anything else in life does.

I met many good people, from being a beat cop, to working as an arson detective, and finally finishing with the best of the best, Homicide. With good people also came the bad, and sadly that's what sticks out more in my memory. Funny how that works, you could have a million good memories and one awful one, and the bad one is what comes to the surface, making you crazy.

I have more than one experience that I'd love to just erase from my mind, but it's never that simple. My first winter as a homicide detective I got my first huge case when many rival drug dealers began to drop like flies. I won't admit this out loud but I was scared about screwing something up. I'm sure everyone could tell though, they were born for observation. I remember that cold night Drac, a drug dealer we had been tailing, cornered me and beat the living shit out of me. To this day it sends a chill down my spine when I think about how close I came to losing my life that night. Drac was a good guy underneath the surface, and him letting me live proved that.

The part that hurts me the most is how he died, at a candle light vigil some neighborhood families held in front of the station house, to get gangs off of the street. Here we all were, gathering for a good cause and he gets shot down like an animal. That's when I got that true taste of the difference between working arsons and working murders, and I'll never forget that feeling.

Criminals out on the corner weren't the only thing that caused derails in my life. I think being blamed for police corruption took its toll on me mentally worse than any other event in my life. I knew back when I was in arson and those lousy bastards that caused a chain of fires got caught and offered us bribes that it would be buried in a shallow grave, just waiting for it's time to creep back up to the surface and bight everyone in the ass. It even caused problems for those that didn't take the bribes, like for instance, **ME**. A few detectives I worked along side with accepted them, and when the time came they began to point fingers at innocent people, and I was suspended from the street until the case was closed. I was working homicide when the accusations were brought up, that's how long it took for it to be brought to authority's attention.

I can still feel people's eyes looking at me, thinking I'm dirty and lousy. Like I told my lieutenant, I was guilty until proven innocent. I guess it's good that I didn't take those bribes, seeing as the case went away. That was actually a time in my life when I did something right, I said no. The afterthought was still there, and people continued to make assumptions that I was a thief and a liar.

That was the first time I had even considered suicide, the pain in my mind and body was so extreme I just felt like pulling the plug on everything. My partner, Meldrick Lewis came to the rescue, pulling the gun away from my head as I trembled and cried for help. I never told him how embarrassed I was, him seeing me that way, but in all reality it made our partnership stronger, even if I was awkward around him.

After all of that drama I took some vacation time to clear my head and focus on other things besides the job. That's when my two low life brothers came into town, begging me to move to Miami with them to use my boat for charter fishing. The moment they made that proposition to me I knew they had gotten in over their heads with something, and boy was I right. That's also when I realized I was no better than my brothers were, I had just as many flaws as them if not more. They helped me see that when they brought up to me that I was the "good son", not knowing about all of the trouble I had recently had on the job.

After getting arrested with them and having to run from their bookies (what a wonderful way to spend my vacation) they left town again, and I haven't seen them sense. The last thing either told me was that they loved me, and then they were gone just like that. I wonder about them from time to time, what they are up to, if they are clean now, or if they are even alive anymore. It's a hollow feeling, but there's not much I can do about it now.

Luther Mahoney comes next in my list of disasters. Remember my first big case as a detective? He was a big part of that it. We always seemed to have him in our grasp, ready to pull him in but he'd slip through our fingers every time, knowing he had gotten away with what we were holding him for. He had this evil smirk he'd send our way as he walked past, down the front steps and back to his limo, letting us know that he was headed back out to commit more crimes he'd get away with.

The day I shot him happened so fast. Somehow, when Meldrick was there without me, he got his gun taken, but not before he beat Luther up pretty good. I walked in, seeing Luther standing there with my partner's gun, and my heart practically stopped. Luther Mahoney was a dangerous man; anyone who knew Baltimore knew that fact about him, so I didn't want to take any chances. I pointed my gun at him to get him away from Meldrick, and he showed that same arrogant look that he did so well. So well that it made my temper flare, and I felt it that very second. I can still hear his words so clearly in my head, I even wake up sometimes and hear them echoing through my house.

"_What are you going to do detective? Read me my rights?"_

At that very moment a light bulb came on. Now was my chance to get the bastard off the street. It would be my only chance to get this drug dealer gone, the man that lied to any innocent bystander that came into contact with him. I know it wasn't right of me to think that, but it was in the heat of things.

I shot him right in the heart, and watched his body slowly fall to the floor. It seemed like a lifetime before he finally landed. Meldrick and Stivers were both there, and they backed me up. It was ruled a clean shooting and everything went back to "normal" until his sister, Georgia Rae Mahoney came into the picture.

She made threats to me, said things to try and scare me, tried to even get my badge. I took her words with a grain of salt, until her son Junior Bunk shot up our station house. He killed two cops and wounded three before we finally shot him down. These events put the final nail in the coffin for me. That's when Lieutenant Giardello called in Pembleton to get the "truth" out of Meldrick and I. Meldrick didn't say anything about me, and I still think he's a standup guy for that.

To begin, Pembleton and Falsone thought that the gun on Mahoney was a plant, that we did it to cover my fuck up. Later in the interrogation I revealed he had the gun to begin with, but it was lowered and they figured out that Mahoney was no imminent threat to neither Stivers, Meldrick, nor I.

Gee said I could challenge it and take it to court, and that I'd have a good chance in beating it, but I didn't want to involve neither of them in it, that wouldn't be right of me to sludge Stivers and Meldrick's name through the mud when they had no idea I was going to shoot him to begin with.

I quit that night, turning in my badge and gun, never to be a cop, the life I was born to do.

No, I didn't shoot Mahoney in cold blood, but it still was a wrong decision, a split second that I can't get back. Giving up my badge that way makes me feel like someone just let loose and punched me in the stomach. That was the second time I gave suicide a deep thought, when I asked Meldrick to let me use his gun, and for him to give me a minute to myself. He was smart, and quickly declined.

Now I feel like my days are meaningless. I hear a siren echoing off of a high rise down town and tears flood my eyes like torrential downpours. I see cop cars and have to quickly look away. I haven't even driven by the homicide building, I just can't!

Is it shame? Maybe.

Is it because being a cop will always be in my blood? Definitely.

Is anyone going to miss me when I die? I guess we'll see.

This is the whole meaning of why I'm writing this. I want the story of Michael Scott Kellerman to be remembered, even if it's not filled with "once upon a time" and "happily ever after."

Yeah, I guess you could call this a suicide note too, so people know –exactly- why I did what I'm about to do, none of that misleading bullshit that leaves people wondering.

My final paragraph will be to say goodbye. Goodbye to whoever finds me, I hope they find me quick. Goodbye to my parents, you raised me the best you could, none of this is your fault. It's too painful living my life this way, and probably too painful for you, having a son who messes up as much as I have. Try and remember the Mike Kellerman that brings a smile to your face, instead of grief to your heart. I love you.

Goodbye.

**The End.**

_Ending A/N: Like I said the ending is different. By all means I'd hate to see him do this on the show, killing himself, but we all know Kellerman has pondered the idea many times. It's sad, and I hope you liked it. (Dodges tomatoes being thrown at her.)_


End file.
